Lullaby
by Giantpanda
Summary: A lullaby brings Shannon some peace. (Post TGG)


TITLE: Lullaby  
RATING: PG  
SUMMARY: A lullaby brings Shannon some peace. (Post TGG)  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters from Lost and am not making a profit. If they were mine, then there would be more Shayid moments.

_Thanks for mrstater for helping me to turn a jumbled mess into a real story._

As Shannon sat by herself at the fringe of camp, she couldn't take her eyes off the happy family: Charlie, Claire, and... Did the baby even have a name yet? She'd been too wrapped up in her grief to ask Claire. Not that she really cared what the baby's name was, as long as Claire didn't call him Boone. Shannon didn't know Claire very well, but she thought she was sweet and flaky enough to do something like that. It would be too weird on so many levels.

Earlier Shannon thought it fitting that the baby seemed to cry constantly since birth. Why would anyone be happy about being born on Craphole Island, while someone else was dying? Now her pounding head made her glad Claire and Charlie had found a way to shut the thing up. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead against them.

Her emotions were in such turmoil, Shannon wasn't exactly sure how she felt. Some moments she felt numb, no words of comfort penetrating the wall she'd built around herself. Other times her sadness was so overwhelming all she wanted to do was cry. She hated both feelings, but the worst was the anger. Even that wasn't a clear emotion anymore. At first she had been furious at Locke, but now her fury was directed at Sayid. She didn't want to be angry with him; deep down she knew why he'd stopped her from killing Locke. But at the same time, her throbbing side, bruised from where he'd knocked her to the ground, told her she had every right to be mad.

Charlie was covering Claire with a blanket and Shannon guessed he was trying to get her to rest. She wondered where Sayid was, as she watched Charlie fuss over Claire. She sighed. Probably as far away from her as he could get; after all, she did tell him to leave her alone. But as the tears pooled in her eyes, she wished he were by her side, as Charlie was with Claire. Then she wouldn't feel so alone. Why did Sayid have to be so willing to do whatever she asked?"

The baby started screaming again, and Shannon closed her eyes. The silence had lasted about five minutes. She hadn't been around many babies before, but she didn't think it was normal for them to cry that often. Then again they were on an island, a creepy murdering island. She couldn't really blame the baby for crying. That's all she felt like doing too.

She jumped when she heard voices behind her, but relaxed when she recognized them as Jack and Sayid. Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn't hear what they were talking about, but she did hear the name Locke. She felt the anger boil to the surface again. Had Sayid been hanging out with the man who had killed her brother? What if Locke killed him, too? Then she would really be alone. She felt a little better once she heard Sayid say that he didn't trust Locke. She could see that he was thinking about what was best for the group, spending time with a guy he didn't trust. She just wished he would pay attention to her -- she was the one whose brother was dead. But she knew why he stayed away.

Sayid walked in her direction, and for a moment Shannon's hopes rose; maybe he was finally coming to talk with her. But he passed by without seeing her. She watched his back and noticed his shoulders sagged as though under a weight far to heavy for him. A weight she had placed there.

As Sayid passed Claire's shelter, Charlie called his name and ran up to him.

Sayid turned, and Shannon was surprised to see the exhaustion etched on his face. What had he been doing in the jungle with Jack and Locke that made him look so tired? She tried not to think about the fact that he was probably tired because of lack of sleep from them being up so late the night before. They were so happy then and it hurt to remember. She wasn't sure if she would ever feel that way again.

"Do you think you could talk to Turniphead?" Charlie asked.

"Turniphead?" Sayid repeated, his brow creased in confusion.

She felt a smile tug at her lips, is that what they were calling that poor child?

"The baby," Charlie said, rocking side to side. "He likes Sawyer."

"Then you should find Sawyer."

Sayid turned to walk away, but Charlie stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Sawyer won't read to him anymore, said his throat was starting to hurt. And that he didn't want to be Mr. Rogers."

Shannon noticed that Sayid seemed to have no idea who Mr. Rogers was.

"Please, we're desperate," Charlie, begged. "The baby liked Sawyer's accent, maybe he'll like yours as well."

"I will try," he said as he walked with Charlie.

Shannon watched as Sayid sat down next to Claire and began talking to the baby, who almost immediately quieted down. The baby had good taste, first Sawyer and now Sayid. She frowned when she realized she couldn't hear them clearly.

She stood slowly, her body sore from sitting so long in the same spot. She quietly made her way closer to where they sat. She sank down to the ground and pulled her knees back to her chest. She noticed that Claire was trying to get Sayid to hold the baby. She held him out to Sayid, begging him. He held his hand up as he shook his head trying to say no, a look of fear in his eyes. Claire continued to plead with him and finally Sayid reluctantly agreed. Shannon could see the apprehension in his eyes as he cradled the baby in his arms. She was surprised by how quickly he adjusted to holding the baby. He seemed to be at ease, and the baby seemed happy to be in his arms. Not that she could blame him. She sat mesmerized by the image. She didn't think Sayid could ever look sexier to her, but she had been wrong. Moments like that was when she wished she had a camera, or more accurately, a place to develop the film.

Sayid started singing softly to the baby. Shannon had no idea that he could sing. She leaned closer as if it would help her hear better. He sang in Arabic, and she wondered if he had experience with singing a baby to sleep. She shook her head to remove the thought, instead focusing on Sayid's voice.

When he stopped singing, an overwhelming sadness filled Shannon. She had felt peaceful while he was singing, and now she just felt empty again. The three adults' voices dropped to whispers, so the baby must have fallen asleep.

She watched as Sayid placed the baby in the cradle and walked back to his tent. She bit her lip, trying to decide what she wanted to do. She needed to talk with him. She slowly stood and followed him.

Shannon had thought that he would have been getting ready to go to sleep after seeing how tired he looked, instead she found him working on the radio for the raft. She stood there for a moment watching him. She couldn't tell if he was ignoring the fact that she was standing there or if he was too engrossed in his work.

"I heard you singing to the baby," she said softly.

She didn't miss the surprise in his eyes that she was talking with him. Without saying a word, he moved some of the materials out of the way so she could sit on his blanket. She sank down on the corner, not ready to be any closer to him. He was watching her intently, and she lowered her eyes to the blanket, embarrassed that he would look at her that way after the way she had talked to him earlier.

"Have you ever done that before?" she asked. "Sing to a baby, I mean."

"No, that was the first time," he answered, as he continued working on the radio.

She was frustrated that he wasn't looking at her when he spoke, but knew that the second he did she would wish he would stop.

"So you don't have any kids?" He looked at her perplexed as he shook his head no. She knew she sounded like a dumb blonde, but she didn't know what else to say to him. Thanks for tackling me to the ground just didn't seem appropriate. "Where did you learn the song?"

"My mother used to sing it every night as she put us to bed. She wanted us to know we were safe and protected through the night."

"It was very pretty. And it got that baby to shut up."

"For now."

She watched as he concentrated on his work and wondered how he could see so well with so little light. She noticed that he tended to busy himself with random tasks when he needed to distract himself. She didn't want to leave his side yet, even if she had to continue a stupid conversation about a lullaby.

"Do you miss her?" she asked, leaning forward to rest her hand on his. She needed him to stop working; she wanted his full attention.

He looked at her. "Who?"

"Your mom."

His eyes traveled down to the blanket and she immediately regretted her question.

"She died many years ago."

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "My mom died too. She was really sick. Is that what happened with your mom?"

He shook his head, as he tucked his hair behind his ear. "She was at the wrong place," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "She was in the market and," he paused, "There was an explosion."

Her eyes widened. She hadn't expected that. She remembered seeing in the newspaper and on TV that innocent people were killed by car bombs and terrorist attacks, but she had never paid attention to it before. It seemed to happen almost every day and she had gotten used to rolling her eyes that no one had figured out how to stop it yet. She had never put a face with those people. But suddenly it all became too real. She had been able to shut of the TV or throw the paper away. Sayid didn't have that choice, that had been his reality.

He looked up at her again and she could see all the pain in his eyes. She remembered the saying that the eyes are the window to the soul, and for the first time she actually believed it. She could see every ounce of pain that he had dealt with his entire life. What would Sayid see when he looked into her eyes?

"That's why you joined the Guard, isn't it?" she asked, understanding creeping into her mind. He didn't answer, but she knew she had guessed right. "You wanted to find the person who killed her."

He turned his eyes back to the radio parts that he still held in his hands.

"The insurgents who killed her were never caught," he said quietly. "I could never find them."

She didn't know what to say to him. She felt her anger at him lessen even more as he looked up at her. She could see his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He had reacted as she did and from experience knew that what she needed couldn't be found using a gun. His attention returned back to the radio.

She studied him then, the way he was focused on the task, but she could see that wasn't what he was thinking about anymore. She hadn't meant to remind him of his pain, but she realized that she had done that since she had asked him to go after Locke. And he had done it without saying a word to her about his past. He was still exhausted and he hadn't stopped working or kicked her out. She had never thought before of all the sacrifices he made for the rest of the camp. She wondered if she left, if he would sleep. Selfishly, she didn't care; she wasn't ready to go yet.

She realized then that she had never seen him sleep before. He was always still awake when she went to bed, and already awake when she got up. She wondered then if his lack of sleep had anything to do with the haunted look she had seen in his eyes. She thought of asking him, but decided to save that conversation for another night.

"Sayid." She suddenly felt nervous about asking him her request. "Can you sing that lullaby again?"

He looked over to where Charlie and Claire sat. "Did the baby wake up?"

She shook her head. "I want you to sing it to me."

He turned his intense gaze back on her and watched her closely for a moment. "Of course."

As Sayid started singing, Shannon lay down closing her eyes as his voice soothed her. He sang softly, and she wondered if he was nervous about singing in front of her. She hoped that he wasn't, she hadn't been nervous when she sang for him and she hated singing in front of people. She felt herself drifting off to sleep as the song ended. She felt him cover her with a blanket, and kiss her forehead. He whispered something in Arabic before he returned to working on the radio. She felt better knowing that he was beside her.

The End


End file.
